


Our Divine Damnation

by Ottway (triebwerke)



Series: Drowning In Your Ocean [2]
Category: Fallout 3
Genre: DIYO-Verse, Father/Son Incest, First Time, Guilt, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Porn with Sprinkles of Plot, Stand Alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-25 04:15:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21570667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triebwerke/pseuds/Ottway
Summary: It’s always been just the two of them, the withdrawn doctor haunted by the world he fled and the young man who is either misconceived as an angel or a little devil. Strangers in this hole in the ground filled with superficiality and denial.…Tommy sneaks into his father's bedroom and James can't resist anymore.
Relationships: James/Lone Wanderer, James/Male Lone Wanderer
Series: Drowning In Your Ocean [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1574749
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20
Collections: Stories About Incest





	Our Divine Damnation

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is best read while listening to [‘Now I Want’ by Son Lux](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rNQGWMoplUY).

In a way he had expected for it to happen.

Things between them have been strange for a year now. Tommy started acting differently around him, looks at him in the most unsettling of ways. And James has to admit to himself, he hadn’t stopped him from doing it until this morning, when he had pushed his son away so forcefully, he almost would have bashed his head open on the hard metal floor of his office, before Tommy could have kissed him.

And now it’s night or at least the time when everyone in Vault 101 is asleep, just like James had been before he heard the door to his room opening.

Naked feet walk on the cold metal floor, coming closer.

Immediately James sits up, muscles tense when he sees Tommy standing in front of him, looking like a ghost in the dark. He’s wearing the baby blue pajama James gifted him for his nineteenth birthday this week. He can’t see the expression on his son’s face and doesn’t want to.

“You don’t want this, you don’t _know_ what you want,” mutters James, he knows the walls are as good as soundproof, but to him it feels like raising his voice only by a single decibel will wake everyone up, will expose the dark truth he’s trying to suppress.

“You’re wrong,” replies Tommy, his voice cuts through the air like a razor blade.

And then he sits down on the edge of his bed so James can see his face, his skin shimmering in the LED lights which never fully go out. Everyone says Tommy looks so much like him and it hurts in a way, because this makes everything feel even more sick and wrong.

They are right though. Tommy has his cheek bones, his hair and his nose. But they can’t see how much of Catherine there is in him, too – they never knew her after all. Ears, chin, legs, hands – all just like his mother’s. And he has her lips, a fact which makes it even harder for James to resist, to stand up and shove him away as the ghost begins to slowly unbutton the baby blue shirt.

“Stop,” croaks James. He’s paralyzed, can’t avert his eyes, his heartbeat accelerating at every new bit of pale skin being revealed.

“Then make me,” says his son in the same way he’s always challenged James’ patience. But this isn’t about Tommy not wanting to eat vegetables or apologize to the DeLoria boy for smearing a sweetroll in his face, it’s about giving in to his sick desires.

It is no surprise to him though – this torturous, surreal moment is merely the point of culmination of something that has been going on for much, much longer.

Yes, the signs had been there, but no matter how obvious they got over the course of the year, James had consequently denied their existence. He’d pretended not to notice the lust in the other’s eyes whenever he would ask for another medical exam, just to ‘make sure he’s all hale and healthy’. He’d pretended not to notice the lingering touches and wandering gazes. He’d pretended to be oblivious to all this until he no longer could, until this morning.

Everything is his fault, in the end. If he had not shied away from the truth, he might’ve been able to nip it in the bud.

It’s too late now, way too late.

Because, at some point, long before today, it started infecting James as well. And now the same unspeakable desires rot his very soul.

It’s why he just sits there and lets it happen, allows for his son to undo all that was holy between them button by button.

For he can’t ignore he’s longing just as much as Tommy is. He has lost the strength to.

The only difference between them is that James is his father and while Tommy may be a man, _he_ is still responsible for him. Even if they both want each other, such a relationship to his parent will only be a burden for Tommy, will keep him from living a happy, normal life in the vault.

Tommy strips off his pajama shirt and exposes his hairless, flat chest to him, which reminds James of the dozens of times he saw him do the same thing before. His cheeks flush with shame, because how can this be so different to him now, arousing even?

And Tommy knows it, sees the way James tries to hide the growing bulge in his boxers from him. And then he chuckles. He has Catherine’s laugh, her smile and his voice is just as melodic as hers had been. But this is not Catherine, James is very aware of that.

“You’ll regret this”

Even he knows how empty his words sound, how obvious it is that he can’t resist Tommy and his wicked charms. He was never able to reject his son’s wishes, no matter how hard he had tried to. This is entirely his fault for not setting Tommy any boundaries.

“I won’t,” says the other and takes James’ hand, holds it to his chest so he can feel his beating heart. The rhythm of his son’s heartbeat is far too familiar to James. He remembers the times that he would press a stethoscope to the exact same spot where his palm now rests.

That’s when these soft lips which are so much like his wife’s kiss him, make James’ body ache with a mixture of guilt and lust as he’s kissing back, nibbling at the other’s lower lip before his tongue slides into his mouth, meets the young man who is his flesh and blood.

Sex among relatives, even between father and son, isn’t that uncommon in the wasteland. Outside people would call them sick and disgusting, yet mind their own business (if only out of fear of being shot) – but in the vault? If anyone would find them now, James kissing his son with his fingers tenderly running through his curly, hazel hair and feeling so wonderful and so horrible like he hasn’t felt in nineteen years, they would kill him.

He’s the parent after all, they’d think _he_ came on to his child and not the other way around – not like he’d ever let them know the truth, if that happened.

The other vault dwellers can come and call him a monster all they like, can torture and kill him for all he cares, as long as they won’t lay a finger on Tommy.

Tommy, who would then not be remembered as the boy genius, as Vault 101’s and his father’s pride and joy, but as the dirty secret everyone just wants to forget. The thought makes James’ chest ache. He’s ruining the life he sacrificed so much to build up for the two of them, all because of his lacking self-control and authority towards his son.

Somehow Tommy senses this.

“No one will ever know,” speaks the younger man when their lips part, leaving James breathless.

 _We will though,_ thinks James _,_ _we will have to live with it._

He will see the same face, the same lips he just desecrated with what he knows was Tommy’s first kiss, these beautiful eyes so clear and blue as pure waters for the rest of his life and they will forever remind him of what they are doing now, of the sin they are committing against nature, against god.

His son presses him back into the mattress and lies down on top of him. James discovers that Tommy is hard as well. He bites down on his lower lip when their erections touch through the thin fabric of their nightwear. For the first time James hopes Catherine is not watching over their child like he used to tell Tommy whenever he got sad she’s gone.

Now his arms are embracing the only person left whom he’d do everything for. His son whimpers when James kisses the curve of his neck; he is such a delicate, sensitive young man.

Tommy has always been shorter and slimmer than the other boys, even at age nineteen his facial features are soft and feminine – yet handsome in their own way. The boy sure knows how to use his appearance to wrap people around his little finger – something he did especially when he was younger.

James has lost count of all the times a hangdog look wriggled Tommy out of detention or grounding for provoking another fight with Butch and his silly ‘gang’. All the special treatment he’d receive from his classmates, the other adults and even James himself because it’s hard to be strict with such an innocent, fragile looking face.

Besides his talent for working with complex machinery and computers, Tommy sure is skilled at pressing the right buttons on people, too. And yet James can’t imagine that ever being enough to survive the brutal hell on the surface.

The world they had lived in is terribly broken.

It used to be James’ dream to change it, but when Catherine died, when every possible breakthrough for Project Purity just turned into another dead end, when he started hating the people who’d once been his friends because they all expected _him_ – the recent widower with the newborn baby – to keep their research from failing with a brilliant idea which just wouldn’t come, when Tommy got pneumonia and he spent twelve days and nights fearing he’d lose him as well… it broke something inside him.

From then on his goal has been the same as everyone else’s – keeping his own life and that of the ones precious to him as well and as safe as possible. That’s why he gave up on his life’s work to bring his child some place where no evils can reach him.

But how could James ever have expected the only danger to his son’s well-being underground to be himself?

He is careful to leave behind as few visible evidence of this moment as possible. His kisses are light and he keeps himself from sinking his teeth into the younger man’s soft flesh, even if he wants to.

Still, James can’t resist being a little rough, so he just hopes the thin trail of marks on Tommy’s neck and collarbone will be gone by tomorrow, or that at least the other will be mindful enough to zip his jumpsuit all the way up until it has faded.

It’s strange how daring and demanding Tommy was at the beginning of this and now he’s shuddering and gasping in James’ arms. It doesn’t surprise him though – at some point Tommy begun building up imaginary walls which make it difficult to read him. Sometimes it’s even for James hard to puzzle out what is going on in his son’s head. However, one thing he is certain of is that he’s the only one who knows the boy’s merely hiding behind that big ego of his.

After a while Tommy tires of being tender. He moans against James’ mouth, then kisses him like he’s trying to suck his soul out. James slows him down a bit and the kiss gets better, deeper.

They are both fully hard now, rubbing against one another and god, does he want to take it even further.

James pulls on the waistband of Tommy’s pajama pants by mere instinct. He stops.

He remembers the time he told Tommy the facts of life, about how he shouldn’t rush things or do something he doesn’t want to just because of his partner, and about how he should wait until he finds the right person, one he can trust.

It’s fucked up beyond imagination how _he_ is now in this position, so close to deflowering his own son. Or maybe it’s for the better? At least Tommy is in safe hands this way and he can gain… experiences without having to ‘prove’ himself to somebody. It’s going to be useful to him once he finally meets the right one, since James is certainly not.

_Christ, I’m only making it worse_

“We don’t have to go through with this,” says James, feeling guilty for how much he wishes to continue with the defilement of the once pure bound they shared. “If you’re uncomfortable we can stop and pretend it never happened”

Tommy shakes his head, then rolls off James and lies down beside him, raises his pelvis to slip off the rest of his clothing. James’ eyes are glued to the sight until he notices the flustered expression on his son’s face, so he awkwardly takes off his undershirt and briefs. Then they just stare at each other’s naked bodies, internalizing that, at this point, everything which used to be between them before is now lost forever, that they are both going to hell and unfortunately don’t give enough of a damn about it.

“You never explained to me how men do it,” mutters his offspring, piercing James with his sea blue eyes, “not even after I told you I’m queer”

That’s true. James always kind of sensed Tommy isn’t a ladies’ man and he doesn’t think there’s a problem with that, he certainly would have told him about sex with the same gender if it wasn’t for the draconic pre-war values of vault 101… and the arrangement.

There’s no doubt the isolation policy of this place is insane. The original population used to be 500 and is now under 50. And while the vault dwellers have apparently lasted for around eight generations _without_ inbreeding to this day (which makes it kind of a sick irony that the first ones to commit incest in the vault weren’t even born in it), it will become a problem in the near future.

And while Alphonse Almodovar – or the ‘Overseer’ as he demands everyone to call him – still firmly believes the people of 101 can continue to exist in complete shelter from the outside world, he isn’t unaware of said issues and is doing his best to gloss them over.

One is not allowed to talk about sex in the vault, only about what a great, honorable service making babies is to America, God and the Overseer.

James regularly violates said rule by giving his patients information on ‘sensitive’ subjects, much to Almodovar’s disdain, but he knows he would never get kicked out over trifles like that.

Not only do the dwellers require a physician but Tommy is the fresh DNA the Overseer needs so badly, it’s why they were even granted entrance in the first place.

And that’s where the bitter condition to the deal he made years ago comes into play. In exchange for shelter, a safe, comfortable life, James did not only agree to become the vault’s doctor and pretend he and his son are ‘blue-blooded’, but also to Tommy having to marry Almodovar’s daughter Amata someday.

Neither Tommy nor Amata know about this. James had hoped they’d fall in love with each other naturally, after all he and Almodovar gave their best to initiate a friendship between them.

They _do_ go along well with each other and it even seems like Amata has been crushing on his son since they were preteens, only Tommy can’t see the girl as anything else but a friend.

At times James even thinks the boy knows about her feelings and enjoys playing with them – after all he has a fondness for pushing buttons.

Yet despite this obviousness, James had proceeded to tell himself it was all just a matter of time, had hoped things would fall into place one day, until his son had taken all of his courage and had confessed he likes boys and only boys.

And James had cried.

He’d told Tommy it was because he’s so proud of him – which he is, sometimes even _too_ much – but the real reason tears had come to his eyes back then was because one day Almodovar will decide that ‘the time has come’ and Tommy will forever be trapped in a marriage without love, will be forced to sleep with someone he doesn’t feel attracted to and produce many, many babies for America, God and the Overseer.

“I’m sorry” says James. “I really should have told you––” _about sex, about Amata, about the world above, about who I really am and who your mother was_ “–––it’s my responsibility as your–––“

Father. As his father. As his disgusting, lying, fucking father.

“Don’t worry,” reassures him his son as he turns onto his stomach and gives James a warm smile, draws circles on his chest with his fingers.

“It’s not like I have _no_ clue of what I’m getting into. I mean, it’s basically impossible to not get the basic concept of it when you hear all these nasty things teenage boys say to pick on one another. Still, I have no experience, don’t know how much it’ll hurt and if I’ll be even semi-good at it but… I’ve tried to simulate it before”

His heart jumps when Tommy puts two fingers in his mouth, lets him suck on them until they are wet enough for the younger man to prepare himself for James.

“I always thought of you when I did this,” confesses his flesh and blood as he works his saliva coated fingers inside him. A thrill of enticement flashes through James’ body at the imagination of all the dirty, sick things involving him the other must have fantasized about. The last time he had sex was decades ago, he didn’t even _kiss_ anyone after Catherine’s death… and now he’s incredibly turned on by his own son’s craving for him.

He lets his hands ghost over Tommy’s skin while he’s pleasuring himself. Again the cheeky expression on the younger man’s face fades away, the shuddering starts and more than enough he suppresses a moan. That is until James grasps his cock and starts pumping, then he grits his teeth and curses as quietly as he can manage.

He could become the replacement for the lover Tommy needs. Give him release when nobody else can… be the one to satisfy his needs after the Overseer forces him into marriage… or maybe they could just return to the surface together? Go someplace where only god can judge them, where they can live out their perverted desires as loud and as wild as they want. Suddenly James wants to see the expression on his boy’s face when he remeets with the blue sky above that he can’t remember.

He almost would have lost himself to the moment and made the other come way too soon, but when Tommy pulls his fingers out, James lets go as well.

“Have you… ever done this with someone before?” asks his son insecurely and even though it’s dark James knows he’s blushing.

“I have. It’s a bit painful at first but it gets fantastic shortly”

Actually James has been on both sides of this. Once at the receiving with a guy he dated briefly in his twenties and on the giving when he was with Catherine, though the last time he had anal with his wife was two years before she even got pregnant. Maybe he has experiences another teenage boy can’t offer, but suddenly James feels pretty rusty, fears he’s going to do terrible. Tommy is probably having similar insecurities – just that he is self-conscious about being a virgin and not out of practice.

“That’s… relieving,” mutters his son and averts James’ gaze nervously.

“I–– please, tell me what to do”

 _‘Tell me what to do’_ , James can’t remember the last time he heard those words come out of that mouth. Tommy hates guidance. Hell, the boy started acting like he already figured out the meaning of life when he couldn’t even tie his own shoe laces.

“You–– should climb on top of me, this way you’re the one in charge of how fast and how deep it goes”

Tommy nods and does as he’s told. James tenses when his son’s cheeks brush against his erection. Jesus, it’s been so long, hopefully he won’t climax just right away.

“Is this good?” asks him the younger man teasingly and rubs himself against him a second time, eliciting a gasp.

“You’re amazing,” huffs James and grabs Tommy by the hips. He wants to push inside so badly, but he needs to do this right. He doesn’t care if it makes him a terrible fuck-up of a parent, he wants to be the one Tommy has his first time with and he wants it to be the best experience the boy ever had.

James curses himself internally for never seeing a need in taking some of the lubricant from the clinic for himself. He slicks himself up with his precome as good as he can but knows it’s not a good substitute.

“You need to stay calm, adjust to it and wait until the pain goes away before you start moving”

Again Tommy nods and the look on his face is the same he wears whenever James has to vaccinate him, when he tells him to cough so it hurts less when the needle pierces his flesh.

“You don’t have to be afraid, sweetheart. You’re in control of this all the time and if you want me to stop, just tell me and I will do so immediately”

“I know that,” speaks Tommy and leans down to press his forehead against James’.

“I trust you, no one else but you”

He could have punctured him with a thousand needles and it would’ve hurt _less_. His intentions may be noble, after all he only did it to protect him, but he’s been lying to his own child for his entire life and this is one of those moments in which James has to ask himself if it was really worth it.

He might be safe but James can’t conceal the fact that Tommy is unhappy.

They’re trapped inside a cage, perhaps a gilded one, but cage stays cage.

The same walls, the same faces all around you until you die.

Every day is the same, every day is meaningless. It’s so easy to feel useless and insignificant in the unchanging routine of vault life.

That’s why Tommy became so arrogant and bitter towards everyone else. Why he is so painfully obsessed with being the big fish in a small pond to the point where he once threw a massive tantrum the day Mr. Brotch _dared_ to give him a B on his math test. Why he keeps on fueling the Tunnel Snakes’ hatred towards him so their toxic words and punches can keep his life exciting.

Why he keeps on showcasing the sketches of his brilliant inventions, although he knows they have no resources to ever make them reality, or his umpteenth useless update for already existing machinery to the others with such desperation in his eyes, as if his life depended on their bland attention.

There is just no satisfaction for a boy like him, so full of enthusiasm and talent, in a place this static. All his passion is fruitless, wasted.

Tommy doesn’t belong in the vault as much as James does and boredom, loneliness is gnawing on him like a hungry mole rat.

Sometimes–– no, _often_ James feels like bidding the sky goodbye is worse than raising a child in the merciless wasteland. Because above ground Tommy’s future may be uncertain but underground he has none.

He deserves so much better, better than having his father as his lover and the vault as his home.

James tenderly rakes through his son’s light brown hair, presses a kiss to his lips when he lifts his hips and lines himself up with his entrance, making the younger man tremble.

Will it be wrong to tell him that he loves him from now on?

Will it be wrong to take him in his arms when others can see them?

Tommy buries his face in the crook of his neck, hot breath and motions’ sending an almost electric shiver down James’ spine as his son slowly eases himself onto him.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” he doesn’t know which one of them hisses the words after Tommy has taken him fully inside.

Oh lord above, how in the world could he survive without touch for so many years?

James needs—wants to move, to let go of all morality and thrust into his son right here and right now.

It takes all of his self-control to remain calm, to only embrace the shuddering man on top of him, who must be even more overwhelmed by this new sensation than him.

“Shhh…” whispers James as he holds him, barely managing to sound more or less soothing and not like a wicked thunderstorm of guilt and pleasure is blustering in his guts. “Relax”

They stay this way for a while until Tommy has stopped shuddering, until he isn’t tense around James’ cock anymore.

His son lifts his head to face him, smiles at him shyly and makes James realize that his smile isn’t like Catherine’s at all. No, the emotion it provokes in his heart, it fills him with bliss like hers did but it’s different. Tommy isn’t a memory of his mother, not a replacement for her, not just James’ nose and Catherine’s lips, not a mixture of his parents. He’s his own person and for that James loves him, _longs_ for him – as vile, immoral and deviate his attraction to him may be.

“I never thought I could ever be with you, _have you_ this way,” mutters the younger man. There is a flickering behind his eyes which James has never seen before, something that makes him want to drown in the ocean of his irises.

“I’m quite the little pervert, aren’t I? Lusting after you,” coos Tommy and lightly – _painfully_ , _teasingly_ lightly – starts moving up and down his cock. “All the times I jerked off with this picture in my mind. Can’t even say when exactly you began haunting my dreams, these kinds of dreams where you wake up with a stiff-on or come in your pants”

He remembers his own dreams, own sick fantasies and how much he prayed for them to go away. He grabs Tommy by his thighs and thrusts into him, making them both moan. It’s so tight, so sweet, so hot, so deliciously wrong and forbidden.

“I want you,” James hears himself say.

“I know you do”

Of course he does. Tommy hardly would have made a move on him in the first place if he wasn’t certain it’d work. The turndown at his office today didn’t stir him from his resolve in the slightest – perhaps he had even expected it. After all Tommy knows how to push _his_ buttons better than anyone else’s.

Now the other’s hand is on his chest, stroking the graying hair on it before he moves on to play with one of James’ nipples. They are taking it slow; even if Tommy likes to act like the big seducer, his movements are still hesitant and careful.

James thinks about his own first time taking it up the ass. It hadn’t been that much of pleasant experience. He and the other guy were roaring drunk and had used no lube nor did much preparation (a mistake he never made again, for his ass literally hurt _days_ after). It was nice but too fast and too sloppy – just a regular fuck, not a moment he treasures, which makes his heart flutter whenever he recalls it, like all the times he’d made love to Catherine.

It’s more than egoistic and thoughtless, but he wants to be the best Tommy ever had, make him savor every bit of this and never forget it, to desire no one else but him – even if his conscience is begging him to stop.

“Sometimes I can read your mind – or at least I think I can,” whispers Tommy in his ear, nibbles at his lobe.

“You feel like a sinner. Your wants are eating you up inside when you press the stethoscope to my chest and hear the heart beating for you. When you dare to gaze at my lips and my crotch because you think I won’t notice. When you rub one out with my image in your head, unaware that I’m doing the same with yours. You think you’ve failed me, that it’s your fault I’m such a miserable and tainted child when you’ve always been the only thing keeping me from choking on my own bitterness, from perishing by the grey monotony that is the world of steel which never changes”

The other’s words aren’t soaked in sadness as he speaks, they are meant to be seductive, loving yet they taste bittersweet on James’ tongue.

Tommy doesn’t know he _chose_ this kind of life for them, that there _is_ another world above ground, a brutal but a liveable one.

Thinking about it, it’s no wonder the love they share perverted over time, became more than it is supposed to be between father and son – all because of his decision.

It’s always been just the two of them, the withdrawn doctor haunted by the world he fled and the young man who is either misconceived as an angel or a little devil. Strangers in this hole in the ground filled with superficiality and denial.

No one understands him like Tommy does and no one else can even halfway understands Tommy like James does… and yet he isn’t sure if solitude is the sole reason the line between parental pride and desire blurred.

Would they really be ‘normal’ if they didn’t live in the vault? Or would they still have fallen for each other, even with the whole wasteland to find a partner in at their disposal?

“I couldn’t say no to temptation anymore once I knew its name, couldn’t keep my dirty little hands off the only man I want to be touched by,” mutters his son and gently bites James throat, their speed increasing.

There is just too much to love about Tommy. It’s the excitement with which he talks about his inventions, as if he is only a few steps away from changing the world and maybe he is. It’s how he furrows his brow when he’s thinking and how his face lights up whenever he catches sight of James. It’s the determination with which he storms his clinic and drags him home when he’s working overtime. It’s the sighs he makes when James kneads the tense muscles of his back after a long shift in Maintenance.

His feelings towards his son used to be innocent until the day Tommy begun leering at him, begun letting his hands linger longer than they should whenever they touched, begun saying these things to him that made James’ cheeks flush and awoke forbidden thoughts in him, thoughts he attempted to lock away just like his remorse for abandoning his and Catherine’s dream to cure the wasteland with the water of life.

“I love you,” James wishes he could have held it back. How much further does he have to take this? How much more does he have to destroy Tommy’s chances on ever being happy?

“I love you too,” says his son, tears welling in his eyes as he makes their lips lock. James has heard him say it dozens of times before. Tommy would say it to him on his birthday or on Father’s Day, whenever he would patch up the wounds his bullies caused him, when making up after a heated argument.

However, the meaning of this ‘I love you’ is entirely different. It’s not pretending nothing happened in the morning, it’s the beginning of a new kind of ‘us’.

It’s torture, it’s salvation. It’s the first night ever since she passed James isn’t alone and he hates himself for wishing it won’t be the last.

He gets ready to comfort the other should he start to cry (hell, the boy has all reason to), but the tears fade and are replaced by the hungry glimmer from earlier.

“I’m yours but not in the way I used to be,” huffs his son and again their foreheads touch, bringing them so close together, they’re basically stealing each other’s air. “I choose to give myself to you. My body, my innocence, my vulnerability – I wouldn’t give it to anyone else but you to own. I want to be your dirty little secret. I want to be the whore that fulfills all your needs and wishes, give you everything I have to offer, fill the void in your heart that she left and free mine from its emptiness”

James swallows each filthy word he says. They should be poisonous, should disgust him and not drive him closer to the edge, make him even more yearning for every little movement the other grants him.

James pulls his offspring by his hair and makes their tongues reunite, his kiss is downright needy and he knows it’s exactly what Tommy likes. The boy loves gratification, being important and desired and has always been especially eager for his father’s attention. It’s more than likely that seducing him, having him underneath and desperate for him is the ultimate ego boost for Tommy – and James is more than willing to grant it.

The time for teasing and accustoming is over. Neither of them can last much longer, the tension which has been building up in both of their bodies being too unbearable. Tommy gets more and more daring, shoves himself down James’ length faster and deeper, his slick cock and testes rubbing against his stomach making James terrifically crazy.

He’s certain it can’t possibly get any better until he hits the other’s prostate.

“James!”

It’s his _name_ that he screams – not dad, not pa, not father. So loud, so clear, so wonderful. And he doesn’t care if Tommy’s outcry of blasphemous lust goes beyond the walls of his apartment, if everyone in this hole can hear them sin. He has never felt more aroused, more in need of a person’s touch than ever before.

With every buck of Tommy’s hips, with every thrust that James makes into the tightness surrounding him, with every time that the tip of his prick grazing the one spot makes the boy cry his name into the palm of his hand, with every moan that escapes them, with every mark they leave on each other’s sweaty bodies, James can feel the fires of hell enveloping, swallowing him more and more, like the devil’s burning hand is clasping his insides.

Wrong, right – it all melts away as James loses himself in the touch of the beautiful young man on top of him. His son, his flesh and blood, his lover. Damnation never felt so divine.

When his orgasm hits him, James feels like he’s going up in flames, a sensation which is only enhanced when Tommy follows him and spills warm, sticky semen all across his stomach.

Panting heavily, his one and only collapses on top of him and James takes him in his embrace, too numb from what they just did that Tommy’s tears wetting his skin could sadden him.

“This was so much better than I could ever have imagined,” whispers his son and rests his pretty head on James’ chest. His voice sounds unfamiliarly soft, vulnerable even, and not at all like the snappy wisenheimer he knows and loves. However, this new sensible side of him is far from bad.

“You were magnificent,” says James while he tenderly wipes the tears off the delicate cheeks.

“You too,” replies Tommy, a wicked smile playing around his lips.

“I’m glad I found the courage to show you how I feel, you have no clue how long my desires have been eating me up inside. For years I thought that I was sick, until I realized the only thing making it sick is because other people say so. But we’re not like them. We’re above their grudges, above their petty, narrow-minded rules and boundaries. There’s no wrong in what we did”

Looks like regular Tommy’s back. As lovely and sweet as he is, sometimes his high-handedness can wind James up, even if the other’s lack of awareness for the depravity of their incestuous act technically _shouldn’t_ frustrate him.

“Is there anyone who isn’t ‘beneath’ you?” retorts James a bit cynically, only to be rewarded with a coy look from his son.

“Oh, there is _one_ person. Tall, clean-figure, sexy voice, great cock and looks smoking hot in a lab coat”

“Don’t forget blood-related”

“Actually I was talking about Jonas, not everything has to be about daddy dearest, you know”

Tommy chuckles at James’ serious expression. He isn’t in the mood for joking at all, in fact the word ‘daddy’ makes his stomach turn. 

If only Tommy would have casted his covetous eyes at his assistant… though in the end, it doesn’t really matter whether his son is in love with a man who is or isn’t his father – he is promised to the Overseer’s girl anyway.

“Relax, I’m just kidding. You’re the only man for me”

He likes the sound of that. _The only man for me._ He wants to belong, wants to be entitled to be the only one allowed to touch the other.

His fingers lazily glide up and down Tommy’s spine. One of the guilt needles pierces his heart yet another time when he brushes over his son’s rear and feels his come stuck to it. He knows in the morning it will hurt, it will hurt so fucking much, but right now the aftershock of his orgasm makes James blissfully detached from his moral sense – even if only a little.

“I’m not enough for you. All I can offer you is a secret that will get us killed should it ever be revealed. Sharing intimacies in the dark, having a relationship which can only exist behind closed doors, maintaining a masquerade to veil our filthy feelings – do you think you can live like this?”

It makes no sense to pretend he’s trying to put a stop to this after what they just did. It’s hypocritical to think he has any right to tell Tommy what’s best for him when their semen stained bodies and his racing heart are proof he can never be his father again.

“Isn’t it better to live in sin than without love?” asks the younger man and lets his touch wander down James’ abdominal to his flaccid penis, not with the intent to get him hard again, for they’re both spent and exhausted, but to make him remember he is just a man as well, a man with needs and wishes, a man who deserves to be loved.

His kiss makes James fully forget who they are.

They lie together, exchanging caresses and declarations of love until their eyes fall shut. Tommy falls asleep before him and James spends a whole hour merely holding him in his arms, watching the little smile playing around his dreaming son’s mouth.

He’s right. Their cravings may be unnatural but there is no shame in the intimacy they share.

This night, this wonderful moment of holding the other in his arms, his breath tickling James’ chest and his fingers resting on his hip – it feels so _right_.

For the first time in what seems to be an eternity, James feels featherweight, suddenly the fire of hell is more like a light of heaven suffusing his soul and body.

Perhaps they can fulfill one another, perhaps this newfound bound can help them both find peace in their metal prison.

Or perhaps this is the sign James needed to finally face the life he left behind, together with the one person he wants to never leave his side.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been writing James/LW since 2016 but only now mustered up the time to post my fics online. I'll upload all my finished stories after some proofreading/editing and then post fics as I finish them (though it might take a while until my ao3 is 'up to date', since there's like 10 of them ranging from one-shot to novel length and those are just the fo3 stuff). 
> 
> Some of my James/LW stories for the DIYO-Verse can be read as stand-alones (like this one) but most are correlating with each other in one way or another and all of them follow the same plotline. I will be tagging stand-alone fics as such, but otherwise think of these stories as one big novel split into multiple parts.
> 
> Thanks for reading and if you enjoyed the story, please let me know by leaving a kudo or comment ♥


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